


Lets Be Psycho

by WordsOfHeart



Category: Shameless (US)
Genre: Abusive Parents, Anorexia, Bad Dreams, Bipolar Disorder, Bipolar Ian, Blood, Body Image, Crying, Depression, Eating Disorders, Explicit Language, Family, Fights, Friendship, Friendship/Love, Gay Male Character, Homophobic Language, Hospitalization, Hospitals, M/M, Medication, Mental Health Issues, Mental Institutions, Needles, Nightmare, Nurses, Panic Attacks, Psychologists & Psychiatrists, Recovery, Sad Ian, Sad Mickey, Self-Harm, Smut, Violence, Weight Gain, Weight Issues, cut
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-04-06
Updated: 2017-05-26
Packaged: 2018-10-15 19:11:58
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 9
Words: 19,648
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10556234
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/WordsOfHeart/pseuds/WordsOfHeart
Summary: What if Ian Gallagher and Mickey Milkovich met for the first time in a Psych home? What if Ian had trouble dealing with the fact he would be bipolar for the rest of his life? What if Mickey had his own mental issues?What if the only way to get better, was by helping eachother out?





	1. Day 11

**Author's Note:**

> This will be a fic serie. Meaning it will contain many chapters, all seperated by days spent by Ian inside the Psych home.  
> It has a slower beggining, but as chapters will keep coming, I will add triggers, just to be safe.  
> For the moment, triggers are limited to mental illness, explicit language and very slight violence. 
> 
> I hope you enjoy !

**Day 11**

Sitting in his rock hard mattress, Ian scribbled another line in his notebook.

''11 days'' He sighed.

He would have never guessed, in his younger days, that he would be interned in a fucking psych home.

''You're bipolar.'' Had told him a jackass nurse a few weeks back. ''You'll have to take this medication for 40 years.''

Just fucking wonderful.

He was a freak, just like his mother. No one could understand how he felt. He was alone in his stupid little head, convicted to be sick for the rest of his pointless life.

He hid his journal under his pillowcase, throwing the sheets in a pile before heading to the cafeteria where he needed to be at exactly 12:03.

He hated routines, but this place seemed to be very dedicated to them.

He entered the large room, waiting in line to get his daily dose of medicine.

''Ian Gallagher.'' He identified himself, still having trouble dealing with the fact that he was on a list with a bunch of worthless idiots.

The nurse looked down at the multiple names on her list. She smiled sympathetically as her eyes came across his.

''Here you go.'' She grinned, handing the two massive pills to Ian and waiting for him to swallow them down before going to the next patient. ''Open your mouth and raise your tongue please.''

''Stupid day care.'' Ian rolled his eyes, doing as she said and heading towards an already occupied table.

He hadn't really managed to make any friends yet, not that he actually really cared anyway.

He ate silently, observing the other people in the room. ''A bunch of skinny, sick, freaks.'' He thought in his mind. He defiantly pictured himself as the most sane intern.

His eyes eventually came across this guy, sitting alone at a table close by to his and playing in his meal. He had dark hair and incredibly pale skin. His eyes were bloodshot and his lips were of a deep shade of purple. Ian had never noticed him before. He was pretty sure he would of have remembered seeing such a distinguished figure. He didn't seem to be able to stare away. For some reason, there was something fascinating about that guy who appeared to be about his age.

He was just so fucking gorgeous.

 

* * *

 

 

Later that evening, time came for showers.

Ian always chose the late night schedule, because no one was ever there and he really did enjoy his intimacy. It was his favourite time of the day, because he didn't feel observed by guards, nurses or psychiatrists.

He stripped naked, letting out a breath of despair as he looked down at his body. He had defiantly lost a lot of his muscle gain. The gym hadn't really been his priority recently. He still couldn't settle his mind to the fact that he was actually stuck there, without even knowing for how much time.

He slowly stepped into the shower, goosebumps appearing on his skin at the contact of the warm water. He reached for his scalp, giving it a well deserved message. He felt immense relief right until...

''You shitfaced fucking asshole!''

Ian raised an eyebrow, quickly understanding that he was no longer alone. He was listening very closely, unsure of what he was actually hearing.

''Why did you!?!'' Shouted the male voice, followed with a sharp sound of a fist hitting against the ceramic tiled wall.

The redhead nervously grabbed his towel, wrapping it around his thin shoulders and closing the water. He didn't want to be involved in any trouble. Especially if it was to make him stay longer in this environment.

''Crap! Fucking congratulations Mickey.''

 _Mickey...What kind of a stupid name was that anyway?_ Ian thought to himself, slowly stepping out of the shower as he tried to understand where the other man was. He walked across the 10 stations, one by one, stopping in front of the only one with a closed curtain. He took a deep breath, unsure of what he would even say.

''A...Are you ok in there? Do you want me to get you a nurse or something?'' Ian nervously asked, immediately regretting not leaving the bathroom when he still had a chance of doing so.

The older male froze, positive he had been alone. He looked down at his bleeding knuckles and swallowed the limp forming in his throat.

''Who the fuck are you and why do you care!?'' He replied, tone aggressive and rough.

''Wow. Sorry for helping.'' Ian rolled his eyes, holding his towel tightly against his body.

Silence.

Ian couldn't believe he wasn't even getting a reply. He knew these people were nut jobs, but to this point? Never.

''So you're just going to stand there yeah?'' He spoke again, quite curious of what was even happening. He could of have simply required the help of an employee, but this was the biggest action he had gotten in nearly two weeks and he was now to invested too back out.

''Seriously. Fuck off you deep shit.'' The raspy voice answered. What he didn't know though, was that every rejection just made Ian even more curious.

''Whatever. Good luck with your issues without letting anyone help you.'' Ian answered with a smirk across his face. He went back to where he had left his clean clothes, only to slip into a pair of freshly clean boxers. He returned to sit in front of the mysterious guys shower, knowing he would have to come out eventually, especially thinking he was now safely by himself.

He waited 10...15...20 minutes.

Nothing.

No voice, no sound.

Nothing.

It's only after 30 minutes that the curtain finally opened, showing off a completely naked frail figure. It was him. It was the boy he had seen earlier today at the cafeteria.

He was standing there, skin as pale as a ghost and immense bruises covering his entire body. Ian couldn't take his eyes away from the blood dripping from his hand and into the shower drain. Even though Ian was no doctor, he was smart enough to know that knuckles should never bleed that much.

''Do you want to take a picture or...?'' The darker haired male asked, exposing his completely naked body without shame.

''I erm...'' He shook his head, bringing himself back to reality. ''No. No I'm sorry. You wouldn't talk to me so I decided to wait.'' He confessed, looking down so he wouldn't be staring at his surpisingly huge dick so much.

''You do realise this isn't going to make me talk to you either right?'' He raised an eyebrow, stepping out of the shower and wrapping a small cloth around his hand to keep it from bleeding out.

''Well...You're talking to me now.''

''Oh don't you be a smartass, I don't have time for your shit.'' The naked figure replied, shaking his head out of frustration. ''I don't need a fucking babysitter.''

''I wasn't trying to...''

Before Ian could even finish his sentence, the young adult left the bathroom, completely careless, leaving him shocked and confused.

Ian stood there for a while, trying to acknowledge everything that had just happened.

Playing into his wet hair, he smiled.

He had just met Mickey Milkovich.

And it was just the beginning.


	2. Day 12

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Here is the second chapter of the story !  
> A few more triggers are added, nothing major.  
> If you are easily offended, you can have a look at the end notes right away :) 
> 
> Enjoy xx

**Day 12**

Ian had woke up that morning with a sick feeling to his stomach. His mouth was dry and his skin was burning. His heart was thumping like a drum into his chest, unable to control the melody it was playing. All night, he had kept having visions of pale skin and dark bruises, blue eyes and black hair. He remembered tossing and turning from side to side, unable to get any rest into his system. He didn't know why, but he just couldn't seem to make his mind shut up about that Mickey kid.

He slowly raised his pillow against the head of his bed, trying to get his back to rest onto it. Dizziness was overcoming his body as he drew with his shaky hands, the twelfth line into his notebook.

''12 fucking days.'' He sighed, squeezing his knees against his torso and resting his chin on top of them. He squeezed his eyelids shut, trying to keep the room from spinning so much. Ian could just feel his mind screaming out of despair, trying to inform him that he was about to spend a hell of a shitty day.

He had completely ignored all the general calls for breakfast, only allowing a nurse to provide him with his daily meds, directly into his room.

It was only a little after noon, that he finally talked himself out of bed.

He walked slowly down the sickening white corridors leading to the main counter, resting his arms against the wall as he waited for the nurses attention, as if standing up was too much of an effort. He ran a hand through his red hear, forehead pearling with sweat and cheeks warm and flustered.

''Can I help you?'' Asked the tall man in a white smock, looking uninterested.

''I...I would like to make a phone call?'' Ian nervously answered as one of his hands was supporting his whole body from collapsing to the ground.

What the fuck was even happening to him. 

''Have you already made your weekly communication?''

Ian shook his head, looking to the ground and biting against his lower lip.

''Alright. Follow me.'' He sighed out of annoyance, leading them both to a closed room. The nurse handed him the phone. ''You have five minutes.''

''Thank you...'' Ian took the phone with his trembling hands, dialling a number he knew by heart.

He took a deep breath as he heard the first ringing sound, desperately waiting for an answer. He wasn't sure if talking to someone would actually help, but he could at least fucking try.

''Please call back later, I'm busy fucking this pretty girl.'' The person on the other line laughed.

Ian could also hear a giggle from a women in the background.

''Yeah. I was kinda hopping you'd have time to say hi to your crazy little brother.'' Ian could feel a little bit of relief gaining up into his body. No matter how crappy he was, it always felt good to hear a familiar voice. Loneliness was fucking killing him and this...well...it was nice.

 _''Shit.''_ Lip muffled, roughly pushing away the girl laying on top of him. _''Hey...Hey how are you?''_

''I'm ok.'' He confessed, voice low and trembling, as if he was trying to convince himself, knowing deep down how much of a lie that answer actually was.

 _''Good. That's really good. We...We miss you around here man.''_ Lip admitted, obviously filled with concern.

Ian could just feel it in Lip's tone. He was committed to be considered as ''the poor little sick one'' in his family's eyes now.

''I just...Needed to speak to someone I guess. Things are so fucking boring here.'' He sighed, biting onto his nails for distraction.

 _''Yeah. I know... There's no one worth getting to know there?''_ His brother asked nicely, trying to be a little reassuring.

''Well...Not really. I mean...Whatever, it's complicated.'' He hesitated, never really seeming to figure out how to be truly honest to himself.

There was this one dude he was curious about.

His eyes met with the nurse's that was now waving his hand, making him understand that he needed to end the call.

''Anyway. I need to go, my times up.'' Ian swallowed the limp in his throat, wishing he could stick around longer.

 _''Y...Yeah. Sure...Hey Ian...When can I come visit you?''_ Lip asked, trying to hold back his tears. His baby brother being interned was difficult to accept. He missed him so much and would have given the world to hold him close.

''I...I don't really know Lip. Probably when they'll think I'm stable enough for not killing one of you.'' Ian shook his head, knowing Lip well enough to notice his tears even if they weren't physically in front of one and other.

_''Fucking hell Ian. You do realise we don't blame you right? Debbie...She's not scared of you...She under...''_

Ian hung up before giving him the time to finish his sentence.

He couldn't deal with this shit. He had almost killed his sister with a fucking baseball bat. What kind of a fucked up prick could ever live in peace with that.

He shook his head and gently rubbed his watery eyes, practically throwing the phone to the nurse.

''I'm done.''

He exited the small space, rushing through the corridors without even looking back, completely ignoring the fact that he could faint at any second. He slammed the door behind him as soon as he reached his room, throwing himself right into his bed. He crawled into a ball, putting the blankets over his head and closing his eyes tightly. He hid his face into his pillow, screaming into it without holding back. He shouted and shouted, nails craving into his thighs and heart pounding into his chest. He punched and kicked as he thought of how being bipolar would never go away.

It wasn't there on vacation.

It was going to stay for a fucking long time.

It was a stupid permanent condition.

It had control of his brain and always would.

There were no words to express the rage and frustration rushing through his veins.

He just wasn't fucking strong enough.

Out of exhaustion, he finally stopped his shouts, whole body collapsing against his mattress. The painful screams eventually left their place to tears...to shorter and softer breaths...to simple tremors...and finally, to a good few hours of sleep.

 

* * *

 

''Mister Gallagher?''

Ian jumped out of his dream, opening his eyes and starring right into the soul of the lady standing beside his bed. He felt an urge of confusion and panic, having trouble remembering where he was and how he had gotten there.

''You slept through lunch and dinner.'' The tiny nurse smiled, pressing a hand against his forehead to feel his temperature.

He automatically pushed her arm away, not liking the idea of being touched by people he didn't trust.

''So what?! I wasn't fucking hungry anyway.'' He managed to say as he rubbed his eyes, not giving a shit about what she had to say.

''Well...I came to get you for group therapy. If you don't go today, it will be double sessions tomorrow.''

Ian rolled his eyes.

Fucking group therapy where he had to talk about his _issues_ and listen to other idiots talk about theirs. It all seemed so fucking useless to him.

Prison. That's where he felt he was.

He gave the nurse a nod anyway, knowing very well she wouldn't leave as long as he agreed to go, even though he really couldn't care less.

''Ten minutes.''

He shoved the blankets on top of his head as a response, letting out a breath of relief as he heard the door shut behind her.

 

* * *

 

Ian sat at the only remaining chair. He couldn't stop himself from immediately recognising last night's tall figure as he looked towards the other patients. He tried giving him a smile, but he didn't even get a stare as a response.

That guy was defiantly a lost cause.               

The therapy host started her rambling about how all of the patients were being brave and strong, but he couldn't give more fucks. The only thing catching his attention was the amazingly beautiful figure sitting in front of him. He just couldn't keep himself from starring. He had dark eyebrows and the bluest of eyes. He could notice a small scar against his lower lip and a few on his forehead. His skin was almost transparent, making every single one of his features obvious. Ian could feel his heart beating loud in his chest and something getting harder between his legs. There was just something about this guy and he didn't seem to put his finger on what it was. But it was driving him crazy and made his mind go wild.

''Ian...Ian?''

He hear it as an echo, ignoring everything around him and focusing his complete attention on the only thing that seemed good about this place.

''Ian...Would you like to share some thoughts with the rest of the group?''

Mickey was now looking back at him, feeling quite violated by the intense look Ian was throwing. He crossed his arms, as if he was trying to read through his mind.

''I...I erm.'' Ian answered, finally looking up. He knew he had fucked up as he noticed everyone intensely starring at him.

''I said, would you like to share some thoughts with us Ian?'' The young lady asked again, waiting impatiently and obviously getting quite annoyed.

He was frozen. His brain didn't want to contribute and he didn't quite seem to get his lips moving. He was caught in this mess he had created by not giving a fuck, leaving him humiliated and alone. He brought his fingernails to his mouth, slowly nibbling onto them as he tried to soothe himself down.

''He was too busy mentally fucking the new kid.'' One of the patients exclaimed amusingly, noticing how Ian couldn't take his eyes off Mickey.

Ian could feel a shiver climb up against his spine, leaving him speechless and annoyed. His cheeks were of a deep red, wishing he could dig a hole and hide inside of it forever.

But Mickey didn't feel the same way.

His fists were so stiff he could feel his nails digging right into his palms. His neck's main artery was swollen and purple, as if his head was about to explode. His jaw was tensed, unable to keep his insides calm.

''Shut you're fucking mouth if you have nothing more intelligent to say you stupid prick.'' Mickey finally spoke, eyes about to pop out of their sockets.

The nurse was getting nervous, already pressing onto the red assistance button on the wall, knowing things could get ugly very quickly. She was standing close to the exit door as if she ready to burst out if ever she felt danger.

Ian nervously sat still, starring back at Mickey, not knowing what he should or say. He could feel his hands shaking.

And that's when things exploded.

Mickey threw his whole body strength against the asshole who had dared to include him in his homophobic judgemental comment. His fist hitting right into the guy's jaw, lip bursting into splashes of blood. His nails gripped to his throat, practically lifting him off of the ground.

Ian kept a hand against his mouth, trying to cope with everything that was happening. He wasn't scared...He was simply shocked. He had no idea what the fuck he should do.

The nurse was full on shouting, screams echoing through Ian's temples and causing the pain of a dozen sharp knives trying to burst right into his skull.

Two incredibly tall and muscular men came rushing into the room, one wrapping his arms around Mickey's body and the other sticking a needle into his bicep.

''FUCK OFF YOU MOTHERFUCKING ASSHOLES YOU DONT KNOW SHIT ABOUT WHAT JUST HAPPENNED.'' The tall boy shouted and shouted, eyes rolling backwards and finally collapsing unconscious and leaving the other patient's throat free.

Everything looked like a crime scene. There was blood everywhere, two unconscious bodies and a terrified nurse.

Ian could feel his entire body shaking, unable to bring his mind to the events that had just happened. He stared as the two males carried Mickey outside the room, wondering where the hell they would bring him now and if he would ever see him again.

Fuck.

He really wanted to see him again.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> New triggers :  
> -Homophobic comments  
> -Fight scene


	3. Day 16

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter is mostly about a conversation between Ian and his psychiatrist. It takes place three days later.  
> But it has a nice twist, I promise!  
> Hope you'll enjoy xx

_(3 days later)_

**Day 16**

Ian was called into a one on one meeting that morning. Ever since the news had dropped, he didn't quite seem to think about anything else. He was replaying every single day he had spent in the psych home, trying to figure out what he had done wrong. Clearly, being scheduled an urgent meeting with a psychiatrist was never sign of something good.

Since the fight in the group session, sleep hadn't been Ian's favourite occupation. He spent most of his nights writing in his journal, trying to figure some sort of way to escape. He knew it was wrong and the dark circles under his eyes could speak for themselves, but if anything, he felt like his shithole of a facility was giving him more trouble than before his arrival.

It's immediately after scribbling his sixteenth line of agony, that a nurse appeared in the corner of his bedroom door.

''She is ready for you mister Gallagher. I will escort you.''

He felt like a fucking kid, always needing a master to hold onto his leash. He was a dog, tied by the neck and controlled by everyone but himself. Even though he hated it, he followed like he was asked, almost picking a fit in the middle of the sickening white corridors on the way. They finally stopped in front of a wide door he had never seen before, only making the sickening feeling in his stomach grow as he tried talking himself out of chewing onto his nails. Nerves hit him like a bus when the tall women by his side opened the door, letting him take a step inside the gigantic room.

''Good luck.'' She breathed out as a whisper before leaving Ian on his own.

The windows were the first thing that caught his attention. The vision was the closest he had been to the outside world in sixteen full days, only emphasizing his envy to run away.  

''Enjoying the view I see?''

The voice made Ian jump, not realising he wasn't alone in the room.

''Come sit.''

The psychiatrist was sitting at her massive brown wooden desk with a pile of confidential documents in her hands. She had long blond hair and the greenest of eyes, a thin face and caved in cheek bones. The most noticeable aspect was her young age. She must have been only a few years older than Ian, which seemed quite surreal.

Ian approached the burgundy leather chair in front of her, sitting with care, scared he would break something. He had never been in a room with so many expensive objects, making him quite  uncomfortable.  

''So...How have things been so far for you?'' She asked, keeping a pad and pen close.

Ian raised an eyebrow, knowing every single one of her questions would probably have a twist hidden behind them.

What was this? A test to see if he could leave?

The simple idea of maybe being free, was enough to make him a little more interested in answering her questions seriously.

''Well...It's been ok. There's nothing much to do and it's getting fucking boring though.'' Ian admitted, hopping he would be able to talk her into his freedom.

''Mhm...'' She nodded, continuously taking notes. ''Boring?''

''Yeah you know, boring. It's a noun. Meaning having nothing to do. Plus, everyone is sick and sucks.''

''Watch your attitude. You're sick too.''

Ian sigh, starting to comprehend that things weren't going too well for him so far. He had already failed at making a good impression apparently.

''Yeah. But I'm not sick _sick_ you know?'' He tried to make her understand him point of view, leg nervously hopping up and down.

''And by sick _sick_ you mean?''

''Well you know...As in crazy. Fucked up. Stupid. Weird. _Psycho_.'' He continued to explain, really putting himself aside from all the other patients.

She smiled.

''Well, I do have a solution for your boredom, but I wanted to talk with you first.'' She confessed,  finally disconnecting from her notes to stare right into Ian's eyes.

Ian's spheres filled with hope. He could feel his heart about to completely burst out of his chest.

''I...I'm...getting out?'' He asked with a trembling voice.

A chuckle escaped her puffed lips, crushing all of Ian's wishes and expectations to dust, leaving him heartbroken.

''This is not a fairy tale Ian. You'll have to prove yourself before you can leave.''

He took a deep breath, trying to keep himself together, but all he wanted to do was burst out of her desk and cry.

''I was about to suggest giving you a roommate.''

''A roommate?! Hell no.'' Ian's eyes widened, shaking his head and rubbing his face with his hands as he tried to soothe himself down.

''It's just for a few nights. We rather not leave the patient alone and you're showing progress and stability. We would like to try it out. I think you both could get benefits  out of it Ian.'' Her voice was rather convincing, but her arguments leaved the redhead unsure.

''I...Don't know.'' He sighed as he let his head drop to the floor.

This was not what he was expecting.

''Please. It would be a favour for both of us. I would have found a room for him and you would be less bored.'' She smiled, slowly moving her hand foreword to sympathetically squeeze Ian's.

He immediately pushed his away though, still not used to strangers touching him. He enjoyed having his personal space, that wasn't going to change. Deep down he knew he would suck at having a roommate. He had slept in the same room as he brothers for years, but being in the same one as a random crazy dude seemed wrong.

''Let's try one night ok?'' She continued insisting, not really leaving him a choice.

He swallowed the lump in his throat, running his hands one last time through his hair before giving her a shy nod.

''Thank you.'' She finally whispered, going back to her notes to write a few more things down.

''Can...I at least know his name?''

''You'll be sharing a room with mister Milkovich.''

He gave her another nod, rubbing his arm up and down gently.

''And...His first name?'' He demanded, having no idea who that freak was.

''Mickey. Mickey Milkovich.''

Ian's heart stopped in his chest, suddenly feeling a draft of worry fly right into his face.

How could he ever forget that stupid _disney_ name.

Suddenly, the idea of having a roommate didn't seem so bad.


	4. Day 17

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Mickey is moving into Ian's room.  
> Will his soft side appear? 
> 
> Enjoy xx

**Day 17**

Today was the day Mickey Milkovich would move in.

He wished he could have felt exited or scared or frustrated, but he felt nothing. His stupid fucking meds made him emotionless. He was like porcelain doll ready to get break apart into tiny pieces of glass.

For the first time in the 17 days he had been held in this lifeless prison, Ian had made his bed. He didn't want to look like a freak, but he did enjoy people thinking he was clean and tidy. Especially if it was to impress someone he found quite pretty.

While he waited, all he could do was stare at the clock resting on the wall, right above the still empty mattress across him. The ticking echoed right through his brain, making time appear slower than it had ever been.

But then... there was a knock.

Ian's body froze and his muscles tensed up all at once, glancing nervously at the door leading to his privacy. He rubbed his nose and ran a hand through his messy red hair, hoping he would look at least decent for his new roommates arrival. He cleared his throat before he spoke, trying to avoid his voice from breaking.

''Co...Come in.'' He said as he got up from his bed, awkwardly standing in his tiny room.

Even with his medication, he could now definitely feel the anxiety kick into his veins. He held his breath as the handle turned, knowing he was only seconds away from seeing the pale ghost who obsessed him so badly.

Mickey stood in the doorway with a guard holding him tightly against his side. His face was expressionless and his body seemed weak, needing the man's support to stay on his feet. He could see his busted knuckles from a few days back, still red and obviously sore.

''Mickey, this is Ian Gallagher. You'll be staying with him for tonight. Try one more bad boy stunt, only one, and you're heading right back to closed unit. Am I being clear?'' The tall and muscular man stared right into his eyes with anger.

He simply rolled his eyes as an answered, moving away from the guard and going right into his bed, not taking the care to take off his dirty shoes. Ian winced as he saw the spots of dirt stick against the white duvet.

''I'll be checking on you anyway.'' He sighed as he looked back at the red head. ''You have a problem, you come to us. It's only a one night trial anyway.'' He finally turned around, closing the door behind him as he exited the room.

Ian walked back to his own bed, sitting down and looking back at Mickey with his wide olive spheres.

''You do enjoy starring at me huh?'' Mickey shook his head, already making this the biggest conversation they had so far.

Ian's body shifted, not expecting any words to come out of his mouth that quickly. He swallowed, talking himself into acting like a normal 19 year old guy.

''No.'' He sighed, knowing that answer had came out too quickly.

''Well, maybe you should say that to your face, cause seems to me like you're always fucking glaring dude. '' He breathed out, not even looking back at Ian. He pushed a hand into his boxers, taking out an almost full packet of cigarettes. He flickered one into his mouth, holding it between both fingers and lighting it up, blowing the smoke into the empty space.

''How the fuck...?''

''Connexions.'' He groaned, throwing one onto Ian's lap, feeling in his tone that he desperately needed one as well.

''Connexions in a psych home? Can you also bring in some weed? Weed would be lit.'' Ian smiled for the first time in weeks, pushing the fresh tobacco between his dry lips and holding his hand out for the lighter which Mickey quickly threw as well.

''I'm done talking.'' Mickey admitted, laying his head back against his pillow and starring back at the ceiling.

Ian's smile turned into a frown, falling into his bed in defeat. He blew in all the smoke, letting his lungs fill with oxygen and nicotine. It's after finishing his stick of cancer that he got up on his feet, slowly walking towards the exit.

''Dinner time. You coming?''

He got a pair of middle fingers as a response, sighing before leaving the room without turning back.

 

* * *

 

It's only a few hours back that Ian made his way back to the room.

Dinner had been horrible, not making quite a change, unable to name what seemed to be moving around in his plate. Therapy session had gone well and his late night shower had been a relief as always. Ian still believed that the only good part about his new temporary home was the warm water, something he had never truly had back at the Gallagher's.

Once he walked in his room with a towel wrapped around his waist, he didn't hear a single sound, knowing his new ''buddy'' was probably already fast asleep. He didn't open any lights, not wanting to wake Mickey. He carefully slipped his boxers on, laying down underneath his duvet and letting out a let breath of relief.

It was only 10pm and he was already confined to his room like a criminal. He was bipolar, not a psychopath. People seemed to confuse both a lot here.

He slowly raised his pillow, reaching for his note pad to draw his seventeenth line, taking the care to write a little setence under it.

**''Today, I got to fucking smoke.''**

He smiled, closing the journal and stacking it back under its secret place.

Ian gently closed his eyes, gathering both hands against his stomach as he rested flat onto his back, feeling himself inhale and exhale.

He was so goddamn tired.

It's only when he felt the exhaustion take control of his body, that he heard a light mumble, automatically shifting him away from the sleep he was drifting into. He raised an eyebrow, trying to understand what was being said or whispered.

But soon, the unrecognisable mumbles were replaced by slight and delicate whimpers, confusing Ian even more. He knew it had to be coming from Mickey, he was the only other one in the room.

Whimpers eventually let their place to soft cries. They were light and calm, but Ian could still feel the pain hidden behind them, leaving him in a helpless situation, unaware of what he should do.

It's only a few minutes later that things went back to silence. Ian didn't move, knowing it was too soon to say anything. He didn't even know if the _hardass_ was dreaming or awake. He left things as they were, too shocked to move.

He eventually let himself drift into sleep, knowing he could never question Mickey about what happened unless he wanted to get punched right into the face.

 

 


	5. Day 18

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Another chapter for you guys! This time, i'm more in Mickey's head :) I was really inspired for this one, I think you guys will like it! Though, if you are offended easily, I would highly recommend having a look at the end notes. There is a trigger and it is a very important part of this chapter! 
> 
> Otherwise, hope you'll enjoy xx

**Day 18**

Mickey was the first one to wake up that morning. He sighed as he looked around the room, eyes meeting the silhouette of the fragile redhead laying in the other bed. He had never really paid much attention to him before, but now that they were sharing a room, he didn't have a choice to at least acknowledge his presence.

He kept starring at his figure as he wondered what his deal was. No matter how hard he tried, he just couldn't seem to put his finger on his mental issue. Ian seemed normal to him. He had never noticed before, how beautiful the kid actually was. He had an amazing skin tone and pretty pink cheeks, covered in a bunch of tiny pale freckles. His ginger hair was messy and fluffy and his nose was delicate and thin. His eyes brows were lighter than his scalp, but they were symmetrical and perfectly shaped.  His neck was long and kissable and he could see his sharp sexy collarbones peek through his supersized tee. His lips were of a bright red, peeked open to breathe in the air that was making his defined flat stomach bounce up and down slowly. His fingers were long, similar to the ones of a pianist and his hands were massive, giving Mickey a hint on the size of his cock. He could see the muscles on his triceps and biceps pop up every time he moved, giving him chills all along his spine and making his masculine part appear more than it should.

A piece of art, that's what that kid was.

Ian finally opened his piercing green eyes, looking back at Mickey with a small grin forming against his lips.

''You're the one starring now I see?'' Ian questioned him, smile staying plastered against his face as his heart started beating a little faster in his chest.

Mickey didn't deny it, because fuck, he was checking Ian out and that was clearly obvious. He simply nodded, not taking his ocean blue spheres away from the younger kid.

''Is that why you took my defence the other day by beating the hell out of that homophobic bastard? Because you're gay?'' He asked, having a feeling in his gut that Mickey would have the decency to talk to him a little more today. He kept having flashbacks of the previous night, whimpers echoing between his ears and making him even more curious about the paled skin man.

Mickey's eyes suddenly grew wider, body and fists tensing up as he starred back at the blank wall in front of him.

''Fuck you. I'm no motherfucking fag.'' He exclamed, shocked Ian would even ask such a stupid question.

''If you say so.'' He replied, not sounding convinced in the slightest. 

''What the fuck dude. I'm not fucking gay ok?'' He insited, tone filled with anger. 

''Are you really sure though?''

Ian could feel behind Mickey's shaky tone that there wasn't only honesty behind his answer, knowing he could probably get punched to death for insisting. He had seen him the other day almost kill the homophobic patient and he was pretty sure that guy would have been dead without the sedative shot that the nurses gave Mickey. But he needed to know for sure...and he was already lifeless in this psych home, which meant he didn't have much to lose.

The redhead slowly walked out of his bed, taking a few steps before sitting on Mickey's. He gently gathered his fingers against his chin to make his face rotate towards him. He was expecting Mickey to shove his hand away or push him off, but he only starred. Their faces were so close, Ian could feel their breaths mix together. He took a deep gasp of oxygen before speaking aloud.

''Are you...su...sure?'' His voice came out shakier this time, sounding more like a shy whisper.

Mickey's eyes fluttered, slowly shaking his head in response before letting it fall to the ground. Pretty much disgusted in himself.

Ian let out a deep sigh of relief, trying to keep himself sane.

''Good.'' He whispered, moving a little closer to Mickey and making their foreheads touch. ''Because I fucking wanted to lick those lips since the day I saw your pretty face.''

''Holy shit, don't you give me the soft talk, you're going to make me puke in my own mouth.'' The older boy blinked, grabbing Ian roughly by the collar of his tee and pulling him on top of his thin body.

Their lips connected, moving in perfect motion. Their tongues slowly intertwined in each other's mouths, morning breaths mixing as Mickey's hand grabbed Ian's left ass cheek. Ian's fingers crawled into the dark black hair, gripping it to its roots and making his roommate moan into their kiss. Their shirts were quickly ripped away from their torsos, thrown to the ground like dirty rags. Mickey's fingers were dancing all around ginger boy's chest, making chills grow on the surface of his soft skin.

Ian crawled lower against Mickey's legs, playing around the elastic of his loose boxers and letting a few of his long fingers slip inside. He rubbed his palm against his cock, smiling as he could feel it harden under his touch. He urgently pulled the briefs down to his knees, fingers twirling around the ring of his dick. He pressed his lips against the head, tongue twirling around it softly before he started motioning his head up and down. Mickey gripped onto the sheets, nails digging deeply into the duvet as moans frequently escaped his dry lips.

''Fu...Fuck...'' He exhaled through pleasure, making Ian smile with success.

The redhead wiggled out of his own boxers as Mickey turned around impatiently, pushing his arse against Ian's thighs. Mickey moaned again as he felt the massive cock throb against him, knowing big hands never lied.

''I'm going to do you good.'' Ian whispered, curling one of his fingers around Mickey's rim and slowly pushing it inside his ass. He breathed out as he felt Mickey's entire body relax, knowing he was comfortable enough for him to start thrusting.

He pressed both hands against Mickey's hips, cock moving quickly and hardly into the older boy's body. He knew by the expressions escaping his lips, that it wouldn't last much longer.

''I...I'm going to...I'm...'' Mickey exhaled, completely out of breath.

Those words only made Ian move quicker, wanting the boy to feel the biggest orgasm he had ever enquired. He could feel Mickey's thighs shaking as driblets of sweat were gathering against his forehead and dripping into his eyes.

Large amounts of cum started splashing all over Mickey's pillow, eventually collapsing on his stomach as Ian rolled around to rest against his back, feeling completely exhausted.

''Holy...''

''Fuck.'' Ian finished his sentence, knowing he had never felt so much satisfaction after sex.

Mickey joined him as he turned onto his back as well, leaving them both facing the ceiling, laying down side to side.

''Do you want me to finish you...?''

The redhead shook his head, already feeling quite satisfied and unsure he could take anymore. The older boy didn't insist, grabbing a cigarette from under his pillow and throwing one to Ian chest.

Ian lit his cigarette, inhaling as he kept starring at Mickey's fragile body. It was covered in bruises of every color. He could see his bones pierce through his rib cage, throwing multiple shivers down his spine.

''We're never fucking mentioning this to anyone.'' The paled skin boy demanded as he blew a cloud of smoke into the air.

''Okay.''

''Okay.''

They laid in silence, both secretly analysing one and others bodies.

Ian didn't talk about Mickey's bruises and disturbing thin figure.

And Mickey didn't mention the cuts and scars that covered Ian's forearms.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> If you are here, it's because you're concerned by the trigger! I know it will be a spoiler, but I would rather tell you than you being badly surprised !   
> This chapter contains VERY GRAPHIC SMUT.   
> I hope it isin't a problem and that you will enjoy the chapter anyway ! xx


	6. Day 19

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I know this chapter was longer to come, but it's because it's three times he size of the previous ones! Not only was I inspired, but main events of the story will appear in this chapter. We will also get closer to knowing the truth to many of Ian's questions.   
> Before reading, you can go take a look at the new triggers in the end notes (but they are spoilers to the chapter so be careful :)  
> Hope you'll enjoy!!

**Day 19**

Mickey had passed the test. He was allowed to stay in Ian's room for the duration of his visit at the psych home, which leaved the redhead pleased.

He wasn't aware that it would involve being woken up by his roommate's shouts in the middle of the night though. Mickey was freaking out because he couldn't find his cigarettes and apparently, they meant a whole fucking lot to him.

Ian flicked the light switch, trying to help him out in the best way he could.

''Shit. Shit, Shit, Shit, Shit.'' Mickey panicked, throwing his blankets to the ground, pacing back and forth.

''Calm down. They have to be somewhere.'' Ian insisted as he tried to soothe him down, looking through his things as well, knowing they couldn't be too far. ''You had them before going to bed. They didn't disappear.''

Mickey was completely out of it. His eyes were wide and his hands were shaking. It was like if he was about to tear the entire room apart.

''They smelled them. They smelled the cigarettes and they found a way in our room while we were sleeping. They stole them. They stole them. They stole them!'' He kept repeating, leaving the redhead staring at him in complete shock and confusion.

''You need to snap out of it. No one came in our room Mickey.''

''They found the keys. They came in and took them under my pillow. They smoked them all. Whoever did this...I'm going to slit their throat. Fucking shit I'm going to beat the crap out of those motherfucking assholes. They don't know who they are dealing with. '' He continued, not even listening to whatever bullshit Ian was telling him. His words were getting more and more disturbing, body and mind being out of control.

''Mickey what the fuck!'' Ian walked closer to him, grabbing the collar of his shirt between his finger as he pulled him closer. ''Will you please fucking listen to me.'' He added, now almost begging for the older boy's attention.

But he kept going. Even stuck in Ian's grip, his eyes were rolling all around, body trembling as if he was unable to focus on anything else than what his mind was set too.

Ian shook his head, knowing he had to help his roommate relax and fast. He took a deep breath before raising his hand into the air, letting it fly directly against Mickey's cheek. The slap made an atrocious sound, automatically making him feel extremely guilty. But, it's only after leaving a massive red print onto Mickey's skin, that the boy's eyes finally met Ian's green spheres.

''I...I'm sorry.'' Ian whispered gently, letting his grip down and taking a few steps away from him, conscious he had maybe gone too far.

Mickey gently shook his head as he fell backwards onto his bed. He let his face drop between his hands, massaging his temples in attempt to soothe himself down. He could feel his pulse beat against his cheek, a feeling that he had felt far too many times.

''Just...Just tell me who gave you the smokes. I'll bring you back another pack alright?'' Ian tried, sitting into his own bed and looking back at his roommate with the saddest of eyes.

He really wanted to help.

''Iggy.'' Mickey sighed, throwing his hands into the air and looking at Ian with desperation.

''He's a nurse? A psychologist? Psychiatrist? Or maybe a cook? Or a volunteer?''

''He's my brother. So please fucking drop it.'' He finally admitted, now feeling annoyed to the highest point.

''You're brother helped you get cigarettes in here? How?'' Ian questioned, hopping he could maybe ask Lip to bring some in when he would be allowed to have visitors.

''I said fucking drop it!'' He insisted once more, walking to the light switch and closing it. He crashed back into his bed and threw his pillow above his head.

Ian sighed, knowing he had a lot of path to do before understanding what was inside of Mickey Milkovich's mind.

 

* * *

 

The redhead was the first to wake up that morning. He had spent most of the night stroking the scars that were covering his forearms with his thumb, questioning himself on the meaning of each one of them.

It's after slipping a long sleeve tee over his head, that he starred back at Mickey's bed, desperate to have an actual conversation with him.

''Join me for breakfast please? All the other patients suck.'' He tried convincing his roommate, knowing deep down that he wasn't actually sleeping.

But no reply came, giving him no other choice than to leave the room by himself once more. He quickly added a nineteenth line to his notebook before exiting.

He walked through the corridors, towards the cafeteria, going through his daily routine of taking his medication and eating a disgusting bowl of oatmeal with horrible toast. After eating his unappetizing meal, he made his way to one of the nurses, swallowing nervously before speaking out.

''I...I would like to see my psychiatrist.''

The nurse looked at him with her eyebrows raised, confused by such a demand. Usually, patients wanted to avoid everything that had to do with one on one meetings.

''Do you have an appointment scheduled today?'' She asked nicely as she ran a hand through her brown hair.

She seemed nicer than the rest of the staff. She kind of remembered him of Fiona.

Fuck, he missed his family so much.

''No...But it's really an emergency.''

She nodded, motioning him to follow her out of the crowded cafeteria.

''I'll see what I can do. What's your name sweetie?''

''Ian. Ian Gallagher.'' He identified himself as he tried to follow her quick pace.

''Wait here for me Ian.'' She finally stopped in front of the large door he was already familiar with. She knocked twice before walking inside.

Ian nervously tapped his foot, really hoping the plan he had in the back of his mind would work.

The tall nurse came back out a few seconds later, giving him a sympathetic smile and motioning him to go inside.

''She'll see you now. But only for a few minutes.'' She smiled, giving his shoulder a light squeeze and walking away from him. ''Consider yourself lucky.'' She confessed with a whisper and a giggle, knowing the psychiatrist wasn't the most sympathetic employee.

Ian smiled back at her, taking a step into her desk with more confidence than the first time. He sat onto the chair in front of her, knowing exactly what he was going to tell the professional. She owned him one anyway. He did agree to receive a roommate after all, she didn't have to know it was a gift more than a consequence.

''What can I do for you today Ian?'' She annoyingly asked, grabbing her pad and pen.

The usual.

''I want to receive a visitor.'' He demanded as he crossed his arms over his chest.''

''You know you have to prove yourself before...''

''Prove yourself. That's all you guys always say. I agreed to your roommate bullshit. I never got in any fights. I've been taking my fucking meds. What else do you fucking want me to do'' He cut her off, getting disgusted with the bunch of promises that never seemed to happen.

''I'm going to ask you to watch your tone.'' She sighed, probably writing on her pad that he was giving her an attitude. ''I agree that you have shown a lot of progress. I just want to make sure you are ready to receive a visit from the outside. Sometimes it could be a shock...And it might become harder for you to stay here once your visitor leaves.'' 

''I get that.'' Ian sighed, knowing he absolutely needed to figure out a way to see Lip.

''Good. Please close the door on your way out.'' She insisted, finally putting her pad down, ready to receive the next patient in her million dollar room.  

Ian was getting more and more pissed, inhaling and exhaling softly as he tried to keep himself together. He wanted to jump on her desk and punch her right into her fucking face.

''Look...I...I just want to see my brother. Do you have a sibling?'' His leg was hopping up and down nervously, knowing this was his last chance to convince her.

''I do, but I don't understand what this has to do with your situation.''

''Imagine...Being locked up in a scary place all by yourself, with plenty of doctors that are trying to convince you that you're sick.'' Ian swallowed the lump forming in his throat, actually feeling tears slowly making their way into his eyes. ''Not only do you have to accept the fact that you are not well, but to top it off, you get pulled away from everyone you love. I've been here for almost three weeks now...and...and I think seeing my brother would give me the kick in the ass to keep dealing with all the stupid bullshit happening in my life.'' He brought his shaky fingers into his hair, nervously biting onto his lip as he waited for the psychiatrist's reply.

''I really don't know...I just want you to be conscious it could be more harmful than good for you.''

''Please...'' He insisted, actually feeling a small tear roll down against his cheek.

''Alright Ian. But we're starting with ten minute visits weekly.''

He sighed with relief, chasing his tear away with the back of his hand.

''Can I call him? See if he can come today or tomorow?''

She nodded, pushing her phone towards him with a light smile appearing on her lips. He understood from that moment that things wouldn't be as easy as he thought. Making Lip understand that he wanted a pack of cigarettes through the phone, without leaving his psychiatrist doubtful, was going to be a hell of a task. He dialled the number slowly, bringing the phone to his ear and listening to the few rings.

_''Hello?''_

''Lip...It's me.'' Ian took a deep breath, trying to invent a whole plan in his mind as his psychiatrist was carefully starring at him.

_''Ian?! Fucking hell. Everything alright man?''_

He exhaled, always feeling a little more complete when he got the chance to speak to one of his family members.

''Well...I'm cooping.''

_''I know you are.''_ Lip's voice was comforting as always.

''Erm...If I'm calling, it's because...they are finally letting me get a visitor.''

_''Really?! When?''_ His voice was more dynamic now, obviously exited by the news.

''To...Today...?''

''Oh today? Fuck Ian I have a test...''

Ian sighed, knowing he was probably messing up plans his brother had. But fuck, he really needed him right now.

''Tomorrow then...?''

_''Yes. Absolutely man, I'll be there tomorrow.''_

''Thanks Lip...I was wondering, can you...bring me a few things?''

The psychiatrist's attention was completely focused on Ian's every word, struggling to act like a normal innocent guy.

_''Things? Like clothes and shit?''_

''Yeah. Like clothes and...you know...some other shit.''

The psychiatrist raised her eyebrows, tapping impatiently on her desk and motioning Ian to hurry up.

_''Can you be less clear please?''_ Lip chucked, obviously not getting what the fuck his brother was talking about.

''You know cigarettes... Just kidding Lip.'' He prayed his tone was clear enough to make Lip understand that he was not messing around at all though.

_''You're not alone right now are you?''_ His brother questioned, obviously getting the twist under Ian's unnecessary humour.

''My psychiatrist is with me. She's the one who gave me permission to see you.'' He gave her a sweet smile, hoping playing the sweet card with her would be enough to fool her into thinking he was being honest.

_''I got your back man.''_

She hung up before Ian could add anything else and took her pad once more, scribbling a few things down before releasing Ian from her desk. Ian happily left the room, walking through the halls with a massive feeling of satisfaction. He would get Mickey's fucking cigarettes and he would make the boy feel so thankful, he would have to at least confess some shit about his past right? Ian was truly hoping his efforts would at least have a purpose behind them.

Before locking himself back up into his bedroom, he stopped by the cafeteria to grab his lunch. He smiled at the lady with the hair fillet, asking her nicely if he could eat his meal in his room. She nodded, handing him his plate of sticky mashed potatoes, cooked carrots and burned beef. He headed back to his room with his platter, unable to wash the grin plastered onto his lips.

Today, was a good day.

That was a hell of an accomplishment.

He opened the door, quickly noticing Mickey hadn't moved from an inch since he had last left the room in the morning. It was sad to him to see the older boy that way, wishing he could at least understand what was going through his brain. He laughed at his own thoughts, realising he didn't even realise what was going on in his own messed up mind.

''Mickey?'' He whispered gently, putting the platter of food on the nightstand by his bed. He moved by his side only to give his shoulder a small tap. ''Mickey, I brought you something to eat.''

The older boy groaned with his back facing Ian, having no intentions of moving in the slightest.

''Mickey please?'' He frowned, starting to actually worry about the very small amounts of food his roommate had been consuming since his arrival.

He didn't really know Mickey...That was a fact. But for some reason, he felt like they had this weird connection thing. Obviously, he was fucking gorgeous, but to top it off, Ian had always been attracted by the mysterious badass type.

''I'm not hungry, so please mind your own fucking business.'' The pale man sighed, speaking softly with a low and raspy voice.

''Look...I get that the food is disgusting but you need to eat something or you'll get sick...''

Mickey's whole body shook nervously, turning around to face Ian. His bottom lip was trembling and his shoulders were stiff. His eyes were puffy and his cheeks were red.

He had been crying.

''Did it ever occur to you that I was already sick?! Maybe it would be the time you fucking realise you're sick too!'' His voice was filled with frustration, but also with pain. The little tremor behind every word made it obvious.

Ian nervously brought his fingers to his mouth, biting onto his already short nails. He took the platter away from Mickey's nightstand and shoved the contents of the plate in their small garbage can.

''I'm...I'm not sick.'' Ian affirmed in full on defence mode, slowly feeling water form into his green eyes.

''Well why are you locked in a stupid psych ward then champion?'' Mickey asked sarcastically, sitting up with his arms crossed around his chest.

''My...My family th...thinks I need help.'' He had trouble speaking, his throat was dry and his body was becoming numb.

''Because you probably fucking do.''

''But...I'm fine. I'm feeling better than ever. I'm not sick.'' He forced a smile as he tried to convince himself.

Mickey got up on his feet, weakly walking up to his roommate with his wobbly legs. He grabbed both Ian's arms, pulling onto his sleeves and lifting them up directly into his face. He waved them into his sight, waiting for a reaction from the younger boy.

''Then explain this?!'' He almost shouted this time.

Ian starred at his wrists and forearms in horror, closing his eyes because he didn't want to see them.

''Now try and tell me you're not fucking sick yeah?'' Mickey continued, feeling tears gather in his own eyes. He had no idea why he was making Ian go through all this bullshit.

''Stop...Stop stop stop!'' Ian shook his head in agony, collapsing onto his bed as Mickey finally dropped his grip from his arms. For the second time in 19 days, he broke down. He let a few loud cries escape his lips, leaving him completely disgusted at himself.

Mickey's spheres were growing back to the deep shade of red they had reached minutes before, sitting back down in his own bed and hitting his head drastically with his fists a few times. ''I'm sorry man. Fuck I'm sorry.'' He whispered loud enough for only Ian to hear.

''Why...why would y...you fucking shove my scares in my fa...face.'' Ian spoke through cries, voice breaking at every word.

But Mickey didn't answer. He was too busy hitting his skull with his knuckles. He moaned through every single hit, leaving Ian no other choice than to weakly turn around to acknowledge what was happening.

It's then that he noticed the force with which Mickey was actually punching his head, leaving his temples purple. His jaw dropped as he watched the scene in horror, not taking the time to wipe away his soaked cheeks, but running to his roommates side in panic instead. He tried wrapping his hands around Mickey's own in attempt to keep him from hurting his skull more than it already was. Hopefully for him, he was much stronger than Mickey, making him able to maintain him in only seconds. He tightly kept a hold on his wrist, scared he would start hurting himself again if he dared to let go.

''Mickey...'' He whispered, unable to keep his tears from falling along his face.

''I... deserved it when...when you hit me this morning. I did. I really fu...fucking did.'' His voice came out as a whimper, seconds away from breaking into pieces.

Ian's heart stopped in his chest.

Was this what this anger was all about? Some sort of revenge for being slapped in the face in the middle of the night?  

''N...No you didn't. I was just trying to help...Fucking hell Mickey I suck at helping.'' Ian's bottom lip trembled, trying to bite onto it to keep himself from crying more than he already was.

''You did well though. Hitting me. It was the only way. Hurting me is always the answer.'' Mickey sighed, feeling like his head was about to burst.

The way Mickey actually believed those words was what disturbed Ian the most. He was really starting to understand where all this crap was heading to.

''Mickey...Did someone hurt you?''

Mickey shook his head, wiping away tears with the back of his palm.

He fucking hated when people saw him cry.

Especially pretty redheads.

''Mickey, cut your crap.'' He took a deep breath, running his thumb gently against his own scars. ''I decide to hurt myself...That's my decision to make. But when someone else causes you pain intentionally, that's a really shitty move.'' This time, he let his wrists right were the older boy could see them, wanting him to know that he was not alone.

Mickey choked on a sob, finally showing some type of true emotion in front of Ian. As much as it hurt him to see him cry, he could feel a certain amount of satisfaction from his roommates reaction.

''I'm going to ask you again ok? Did someone hurt you Mickey?'' He questioned him again as his hand climbed against his back, slowly rubbing circles.

''Shit man...I'm a tough guy. But...he...he scares me.'' Mickey finally cried as he stayed still, feeling like his entire body was paralyzed.

''Who Mickey?'' Ian felt his trouble to feel comfortable, slowly pulling him into his grip. He wrapped his strong arms against Mickey's thin waist, hand resting on his bony thighs.

The older boy hid his nose in the neck of the almost stranger sitting by his side. Ian could feel Mickey's tears crawl against his skin and wet the edge of his sweater.

''Who is it?''

''My...My dad.''

Mickey's body trembled at his confession, sinking into Ian's body as he let a few more tears escape his parted lips.  

''The bruises?'' Ian nervously asked, knowing how many of them covered his pale and fragile skin.

''Mainly him.''

Ian simply held him tighter, which was all the weak boy needed at that point. Even if he wanted to overflow him with questions, he kept himself quiet, trying to act like some sort of a protector to the stack of bones tucked in his chest.

He approached his lips against one of his ears, softly whispering into it.

''I'll have cigarettes for you tomorrow.''

No words were added, but Ian could feel Mickey's cold hands grip tighter to him at the confession of his efforts.

That in itself, was the best thank you Ian could of have received.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> New triggers :  
> -Mentions of self harm and self harm scars  
> -Mentions of physical abuse


	7. Day 20

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Once again, you can look at the end notes for triggers in this chapter :)   
> But spoileeeers.   
> This chapter sad in parts, you are warned. 
> 
> Enjoy xx

**Day 20**

''I'm here to see my brother. His name is Ian Gallagher.''

Lip nervously tapped the front desk with his hand, creating a slow rhythm. Under his arm, there was a large book he had rented from his college library. He was holding onto it for bare life, scared he would have to hand his personal effects to security before heading inside the visitors room.

''Do you have your ID sir?'' The receptionist asked, handing her hand out to receive the needed documents.

''Oh, yes sure.'' Lip grabbed his wallet, looking for a few seconds before showing her his medical card.

''Alright, just one second.'' She smiled, making a search in her computer. ''I see here that your brother was admitted for Bipolar Disorder, important self harm issues, as well as a suicide att...''

''Yes. That's him.'' Lip cut her off, not wanting to hear the end of her sentence. Everyone was still pretty much in denial about that part of their lives, trying to erase those horrible memories to focus on the fact that Ian was getting some much needed help.

He would get better. He had too.

''Third door on your left.'' She guided him through the halls by pointing out a finger. ''The visit today will be of a duration of ten minutes.'' She finally added with a smirk before going back to her paperwork.

Lip nodded thankfully, walking down the halls and heading to the room he was asked to head to. Once he arrived inside, he immediately noticed the two large and muscular guards standing on each side of the door. He swallowed the lump in his throat, sympathetically saluting them before sitting down on one of the dozens of cold metallic chairs.

Only a few seconds after, he saw his brother walk into the room with a light smile covering his lips. Sadly, Lip could feel the immense amount of pain through his green eyes. He walked up to him, immediately taking him into his embrace. Ian's arms lingered against his sides, but Lip's grip around his body was tight and warming. When they finally broke their hug, they both noticed that their eyes were tearful.

''Fucking hell Lip. You look so good.'' Ian admitted as he squeezed his brother's shoulder. He couldn't believe how well clean and preppy clothes suited him well.

The older sibling smiled, giving a tap in Ian's back as a response of thankfulness. 

''You look good too man.'' He half lied, going back in for a second hug.

This time though, he slipped his hand against the back of his neck, pulling his baby brother's head against his shoulder.

''I'm so happy to see you.'' He whispered into Ian's neck, struggling to let go.

Ian's the one who eventually broke the second embrace, motioning him towards one of the tables. They both sat down in a way they could face one and other.

''I really miss you guys.'' The redhead admitted sadly as he played with his fingers.

''And we miss you. Debbie made this for you.'' Lip smiled, handing him an envelope. ''It's a card. She told me that she wrote something special for you.''

''I'll...I'll read it later.'' Ian admitted as he took the letter with one of his shaky hand. ''How's everyone?''

''They're good man. Fiona's almost never home, so I'm spending more nights there now. I think she's happy though. She always calls to see how were doing. Carl's out of juvie. I'm not sure he's happy about it though. He has braided hair now Ian, you would burst out laughing if you would see him. Debbie's dating this new guy. I'm watching her closely...Want to make sure he's not going to hurt her.'' He explained, trying to update his brother as quickly as possible.

Ian simply nodded, unsure of how all of Lip's confessions made him feel. He was obviously happy everyone was moving on with their lives and doing well, but during that time, he felt like he moving in slow motion.

''How...How about Liam...'' He nervously asked, fingers making their way to his mouth, nibbling on his short nails once more.

Lip swallowed nervously, eyes moving down to the table as if he was trying to avoid starring into Ian's.

''You know...He's going to be ok.'' He tried to be reassuring, but he knew that his tone wasn't as convincing as it should have sounded.

''He's still doing those nightmares huh?'' Ian sighed as he started to pinch the skin of his left forearm with two of his fingers.

''Please...Ian you need to stop blaming yourself.'' Lip frowned as he noticed his brother's attempt at hurting himself. He slowly pushed his hand towards his, pressing his palm against his arm so he would stop pinching at his already marked skin.

''He wasn't supposed to see that Lip...None of you were.''

 

* * *

 

**_Twenty five days before_ **

_It was not a good night for Ian. Actually, it hadn't been good nights for a week now. All Ian would do during the day was sleep and all he would do during the night was cry. He had lived through many stages, but this depression phase, was the worst he had ever gone through. His high of making pancakes at four in the morning, of going out for a ten mile run on an empty stomach or of having sex with a bunch of different men, had totally vanished, leaving him alone and empty._

_He knew when he was sitting on the bathroom stool that he was going to pull a Monica, but it didn't matter anymore. Everyone thought he was going out of his mind._

_Truth was, he was simply really fucking sad._

_That's why it didn't seem like a big deal when he took a sharp blade to cut through the veins of his left wrist. Problem was, it became a whole different situation when Liam walked in on him with a teddy bear dangling between his fingers._

_He could feel the blood drip onto the cold ceramic tiles and his body drifted in and out of consciousness, but the idea of dying with images of his baby brother watching him, seemed like the most horrific thing._

_That's the only reason why Ian screamed. Pushing out a shout by contracting his lungs that could barely even pump the remaining oxygen. It was a heartbreaking shout, because he knew it meant he had probably failed at his suicide attempt._

_But he couldn't let Liam watch...He just couldn't._

_In only a few seconds his whole family had appeared into the bathroom._

_Debbie ran to Liam, covering his eyes and carrying his body out of the room in horror._

_Fiona stood in shock, chocking back her tears._

_Lip bent down against his brother, hands pressed against his cheeks as he trying to keep him focused on his eyes. Scared he would lose consciousness._

_Carl was the one who brought wet clothes, wrapping one against his slashed wrist and the other against his brother's neck._

  _It's five days after his attempt, confined to a hospital bed on suicide watch, that he was interned into a psych home for being bipolar._

 

* * *

 

''But he did man. And thank god...because who knows if you would still be with us today.'' Lip gave his brother's hand a squeeze as the memories of that night kept flashing through his brain.

Stupid genetic disorder.

Lip finally handed him the book he had been holding onto so tightly, hoping it would lighten their conversation.

''It's...The book you asked for.''

Ian caught up right away, taking the book between his own hands and nodding thankfully.

''Why such urgency though?'' The older sibling asked curiously, knowing Ian had never been that much of a smoker before.

''For my roommate.''

''So much fuss for a simple roommate?''

''He's more than that to me.'' He admitted as he held the book tightly against his chest.

''You care about him don't you?'' Lip understood, knowing his brother well enough to get the fact that feelings were probably involved between the both of them.

''Yeah Lip. I do. I feel like he gets me.'' He smiled, replaying many previous events in his mind.

''What's his name?'' He questioned, getting more and more intrigued by his brother's confessions.

''Mickey. Mickey Milkovich.''

Lip's heart stopped in his chest, eyes growing twice their size and facial expression changing drastically.

''What...?'' Ian nervously asked, knowing nothing good could come out of a reaction like that.

''Mickey Milkovich, as in...Terry Milkovich?''

''I...I don't know...'' His worry grew bigger, having no idea who his older sibling was referring to.

''They've been talking about him on the new for a week. He's a child abuser Ian. Locked him up in prison for a while...Should of been for life.''

''As in physically or...'' Ian whispered in a breath, feeling his stomach churning.

''Both.''

''Fuck.'' He could feel his inside's turn.

''I'm sorry Ian. Maybe they aren't even related.''

''I...I think I'm going to be sick.'' He admitted as his legs almost gave out.

Ian pushed himself out of his chair, stumbling out of the room with a hand locked against his mouth. Lip followed him with a sour feeling of regret, instantly wishing he could take back his confession.

One of the guards followed both boys out of the visitors room, wanting to be sure they weren't headed towards a unit were Lip wasn't allowed to be.

Ian kicked the bathroom door open, pushing himself into a stall and crashing onto his knee. His head fell towards the toilet bowl where he emptied the content of his stomach.

''You going to be alright Ian?'' Lip guiltily asked, feeling like he was the cause of his brother's sudden sickness.

''G...Give me a minute.'' He whispered as he tried to catch his breath.

He wiped his mouth with the back of his hand once he trusted his body enough to contain itself. He pressed his arms against the walls of the cabin as he stood up on his feet, shakily going back to his brother's side.

''I'm sorry...It's just...It hit me.''

''I shouldn't have told you...'' Lip sighed, giving his baby brother's back a comforting rub. ''But you do know you're going to be fine though right?''

''Can we ever truly be sure of that Lip?'' He asked as a question, but made it sound more like a fact.

Before the older boy could answer, the guard approached them both.

''Times up Gallagher. You need to head back to your room.''  He spoke up, ready to escort him.

''My...My book.'' He panicked, realising he had left it in the visitors room while running into the public bathrooms.

''I've got it.'' Lip smiled, haven thought of taking it with him. ''I'm not in college for nothing. Apparently, I'm kind of smart.'' He laughed, handing the book and Debbie's letter back to his brother.

They hugged each other tightly one last time before Lip was forced to leave, promising weekly visits.

Ian held onto his book and letter tightly, slowly walking back to his room with the guard close by. He could feel the horrible taste of vomit in his mouth, hoping Mickey wouldn't notice the scent. When he finally regained his bed, he noticed his roommate was exactly in the same position he had left him : laying down naked over the sheets.

He smiled, image of a happy Mickey automatically giving him hope that his brother's confession had nothing to do with the guy laying down in his bed.

''I see you've been patient.'' The redhead laughed, kicking off his shoes before laying down by Mickey's side.

''Of course I've been patient. For fuck sakes, you left me alone and hard.'' He groaned, pointing his very obvious erection.

''Sorry, I was busy getting my roommate his smokes.'' He chuckled, opening the book his brother had given.

A squared hole was cut through the pages, making it the perfect hiding spot. Both boys laughed at the idea, knowing how brilliant it actually was. Ian grabbed the package, opening it quickly before handing one to the beautiful guy laying next to him.

''I will never thank you enough for this.'' The older boy smiled, pushing the cigarette between his lips and lighting it up with his matches.

Ian could feel Mickey's body automatically relax, knowing how much better smoking actually made him feel.

''Why do you like them so much?'' Ian asked as he ran his fingers through the boys dark hair.

''They cut the hunger.'' He admitted as if it was no big deal, starring at the ceiling while blowing the smoke out of his lungs.

Ian wasn't surprised.

''So that's why your here huh? Because you won't eat.'' He frowned, letting his fingers trail up and down his rib cage. It scared him how thin Mickey was.

''I guess that's part of it.''

''Can you...explain?'' He tried asking more, feeling like their connection had changed a lot since the previous night. He knew they weren't quite at trusting each other fully yet...But he was hoping that was where it was heading to.

''Anorexia Nervosa. It's some chick disease, but I got it for some reason.'' Mickey explained as he inhaled more nicotine.

''It's not a girls disease...'' He objected. ''I mean...maybe it's less common, but lots of boys deal with it too.''

''How would you know that?'' He finally turned his head so they would be facing.

''One of my cousins boyfriends best friend had a brother who had an eating disorder and went to a special clinic with a bunch of other dudes.''

''That sounds like a very reliable resource Gallagher'' He laughed, handing what remained of his cigarette to the redhead.

''I know right?'' He smiled, taking the cigarette between his fingers and letting it slip into his mouth.

''How was it with your brother?'' He changed subjects.

''It was good...I mean...My family's all happy.''

''And that makes you feel glad...or even more shitty?''

''What about both?''

''Yeah. That was my guess.'' He smiled, waiting for Ian to take a puff before retaking possession of the smoke stick. ''Your breath smells like a dead corpse you know?''

''Mhm...Thanks.'' He sarcastically answered, pushing a hand against his mouth to block out the odour. 

''Now...Can you please go brush your teeth so I can thank you properly?'' The older boy crossed his arms over his chest, impatiently waiting.

''That sounds like an offer I can't refuse.''

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> -Suicide attempt   
> -Self Harm  
> -Blood   
> -Mentions of anorexia nervosa   
> -Mentions of vomit


	8. Day 21

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Drama. Drama. Drama.  
> I'm sorry for this chapter and i'm sorry if it makes you cry !  
> It's a little different from the others, but you'll quickly understand why.  
> Don't forget to look at the end notes for triggers in this chapter (spoiler alert if you do) 
> 
> Enjoy xx

**Day 21**

Ian was sitting down in his bed, face crushed between his hands and body trembling with anxiety. He had never had a panic attack before, but he felt like he was edges away from having his first one. All he wanted to do was run away into the dark streets of Chicago. He wanted to find a window and jump to the ground. He wanted to feel the breeze against his face and the wind caress his arms. He had dreams of stumbling down the streets, escaping to _his_ side. He wished of intertwining _their_ fingers and crawling up in _his_ bed. He needed to feel _his_ warmth and to know that _he_ was alive.

Yet, all he could do was stare intensely at the clock ticking above Mickey's empty mattress, tears rolling down his pale cheeks. He felt so fucking useless. His heart was slowly sinking into darkness and his hands were shaking uncontrollably, unable to keep his rate to a normal pace. He had haunting desires of grabbing a blade and cutting into his skin, feeling waves of emptiness he couldn't avoid. He felt himself about be dragged away by the shore, in urgent need of support.

Instead of rushing into a black hole he would regret, he looked at the phone on his bed stand, sighing in desperation. One of the nurses had given it to him, promising to give him a call. He decided to use it for a personal call, fingers running around the numbers, nervously dialling the wanted digits before bringing the devise up to his ear. 

There were multiple rings, not surprising for a phone call at three in the morning. When the voice spoke up, he felt his breath stop. It was like if he was about to choke.

 _''Who is this...?''_ The female voice on the other line was filled with a mixture of anger and concern.

He tried to speak...But the words wouldn't come out.

 _''Who the fuck calls at this time?! At least have to balls to tell me you're sorry if you dialled a wrong number. And if it's a prank call...Well fuck you.''_ The worry in the tone disappeared, leaving all the space for furry.

Panic filled his body as he felt like she was about to hang up on him, clearing his throat and speaking out with the little bits of strength he had left.

''Fi...It...It's...'' He couldn't manage to say more, chocking on a sob and no longer able to send air into his lungs. He covered his mouth with his palm, trying to keep himself from bursting into tears on the phone, but without wanting to, he was attacked by another crying fit. It felt like he was having a heart attack.

It felt like he was about to die.

 _''Shit.''_ His sister answered, immediately recognising the voice through the phone. She had raised Ian as if he had been her own son, knowing she couldn't be wrong _. ''Baby...What's the matter? Where are you?''_

Ian tried to answer, but the lacking amount of oxygen pumping through his body wouldn't let him. He was holding onto the phone for bare life, having no control on his mind.

It was like being off meds all over again. And fuck...Now he could feel sadness like he never thought he could.

 _''Breathe slowly...Shh...''_ There was a tremor behind her voice, feeling completely hopeless from her comfortable apartment, miles away from her brother.

The redhead pressed his palm against his racing chest, trying his best to inhale and exhale. He could feel the air come into his body a little faster, but couldn't control his excessive amount of tremors.

''I...I need out.'' He cried, tears streaming down his face and soaking his skin.

 _''Out...? But Ian...You agreed to stay until you're better.''_ She said, voice soft and reassuring. Fiona wanted to say that he didn't seem well...That he needed to get his shit together first. But she couldn't, not after living so much emotion through a stupid telephone.

Ian shook his head in denial, falling onto the bed and crawling up into a ball as he kept the device locked to his left ear, concentrating on breathing.

''I need to find a way...You...You need to take me to the hospital.'' 

 _''The hospital?!''_ She almost shouted in panic, already pulling her coat on her shoulders, ready to burst out of the door.

''Not for me Fi...I need to see my roommate. Now.''

 

* * *

 

**_Earlier that day_ **

Mickey walked through the hallways with a nurse following him. She escorted him back to his room, giving him a light pat on the shoulder before authorising him to walk back onto his privacy.

When he finally stepped inside, he smiled at Ian's sight. He was curled up into his bed, hugging the pillow as if it was a teddy bear. He approached his roommate, kicking the blankets away and snuggling into his side. He loved feeling his warm skin against his shivering body. Mickey ran his thin finger through the ginger hair. For the first time in his life, the older boy felt like someone actually got him...Understood what was going on in his mind and what he had to deal with every single day. Deep down, he knew Ian was probably too good for him, but for this one time, he needed to be selfish and accept his presence. It felt too good to be avoided.

''You coming down at the cafeteria with me?'' Ian sleepily asked, rubbing his eyes gently as he cuddled deeper into the boy by his side.

''I thought you were sleeping.'' He frowned, gently cupping his face with his hands and pressing a kiss to his lips.

''Mhm...'' The redhead chanted in happiness. ''I woke up and you weren't there...So I decided to stay in bed until you'd come back.''

Ian had no idea what had happened to them in the past few days, but it felt fucking right. There was no need to question it. Even with the excessive amount of medicine effecting his body, Mickey made him _feel_. That's all he needed to be convinced.

"Yeah.'' Mickey sighed, fingers tips dancing lovingly around Ian's scared arm. ''Was doing my weekly weight in.''

''Oh...'' Ian whispered sympathetically, seeing by his roommate's facial expression that it hadn't gone as he had wished.

Their conversation about the scale ended there. Ian didn't dare ask more questions about it and Mickey didn't feel the need to add details. Instead, he pressed the freezing tip of his nose against Ian's chin, mentally arguing to himself about how much of a gay idiot he was being.

''So...You going to be coming to the caf with me of not?'' Ian asked again, trying his best to talk Mickey into doing what was the best for him.

''You know how much I fucking hate going there.'' He finally answered, letting his head fall against Ian's chest.

Ian's arm wrapped gently against his fragile body, pulling him a little closer into his warmth. He couldn't believe how fucking cold Mickey always was. He looked and felt like a dying corpse.

''You don't have to eat alright? Just keep me company?''  He begged with his fluttering eyelids, making it almost impossible to resist.

The older boy rolled his eyes in response, slowly getting up from the bed and crossing his arms. Ian chanted to himself in victory, quickly pushing himself out of his mattress and jumping into a pair of sweats. He walked to the door, opening it proudly and waiting for Mickey to follow him out of their room.

As they walked down through the corridors of the psych home together, Ian could notice something quite odd about Mickey as he stopped to press both his hands against one of the walls to support his body. His breaths were of a slow rhythm and seemed to be painful to take, which only made the redhead even more concerned. He pressed a comforting hand onto his back, leaning closer to his face and lightly whispering to him.

''You alright there?'' He frowned, not liking what he was seeing.

Mickey lifted a finger into the air, giving the hint to his roommate that he simply needed a minute. Ian simply nodded, taking a step backwards and waiting for him to catch his breath properly.

In a few seconds, he was good enough to keep walking down the hall, leaving Ian quite perplexed.

When they arrived, an employee was there to hand them their meds, making sure to check under their tongues. Ian took them without refusal, questioning himself about what Mickey's pills were for.

But he didn't ask.

He wished he could ask.

Mickey sat down at a table near the food counter as Ian went to get his platter. The strong odour of nutrition made Mickey's stomach turn, unable to talk himself into eating anything. Honestly, he was already regretting accepting his roommates offer. He was defiantly not born to be in the presence of any type of food. What he hated the most, was how painful the growls in his stomach were making him feel. Every single one were a remembrance of how hungry he actually was. He hadn't eaten in days, but kept repeating his motto in his mind as a source of motivation.

_Skip dinner, wake up thinner._

When Ian sat by his side with a plate of eggs, toast and oatmeal, things only got worst. His stomach felt like it was being cruelly stabbed, making him twist and turn in discomfort. While taking a bite into his mouth, Ian reached for Mickey's hand under the table, only to give it a small squeeze. He could see how much his friend was hurting and it made him fucking sick. Ian was shocked by the amount of paleness in Mickey's face and how his pupils seemed to roll in from time to time. It scared him how badly he was shaking and how loud he was breathing. Just as he was about to get up from his seat and run to get some help, knowing something had to be wrong, he cut him off by surprise.

''Ian...'' He whimpered, clutching at his stomach with his hand and squeezing his eyes shut.

''You're scaring the fuck out of me...'' Ian frowned, squeezing his hand a little tighter, thinking he was going to pass out. ''Please tell me what's going on.''

All the colors of Mickey's face had been washed away, lips turning to a dark shade of blue and dark circles under his eyes only being more exposed.

''I...I...Can't...Breathe.'' He admitted, keeping a hand tightly against his chest as he tried to get small amounts of oxygen to enter his lungs.

As Ian was about to jump on his feet to give him support and help him get some help, he saw Mickey grip at the table in attempt to steady his body.

But in seconds, everything was black, and he collapsed.

Ian gasped in horror, throwing himself at Mickey to try and catch him before he hit the ground, unable to keep his head away from hitting the corner of the table sharply. The sound was loud enough to make every single patient and nurse turn towards them, silence invading the entire cafeteria. Ian, in seconds, was on the ground by Mickey's side, trying to shake him awake, but having no luck. He was getting scared at the large wound on his left temple and how badly he was bleeding.

Three nurses had already rushed up to their side, one wrapping a towel around his neck and the other holding himself into place. The third nurse had a phone in her hand, calling an ambulance.

''Everybody regain your rooms!'' One of the nurses ordered to the patients who were now exiting the cafeteria slowly, glancing curiously in their direction.

Ian stayed still, starring at them in panic. The only person who had made his stay in the psych home tolerable, was now completely passed out on the ground and covered in scary amounts of blood. He turned away slowly as a nurse tapped on his shoulder.

It was the same nurse that had helped him get a quick appointment with his psychiatrist the other day. She had an expression of worry on her face, pulling her hand out for Ian to take. He hesitated, eyes dancing between her and Mickey, but finally taking it, letting her help him climb back on his feet.

''You need to go to your room sweetie. We have this covered alright?'' She frowned, patting his arm reassuringly and starring back at the boy on the ground with fright. ''You don't have to worry, I'll go in the ambulance with him and make sure he's alright.''

''I...I need to go too.'' He begged, clutching onto her in support, waves of dizziness overcoming his body.

''Ian right?'' She smiled nicely, pointing a table a few meters away from where Mickey was laying down. ''Go wait for me there, I'll come see you in a second.''

Without knowing what more to do, he nodded, stumbling to the table she had mentioned and taking a seat as his left leg nervously jumped up and down. He was back at biting his nails, looking at the scene of horror in distress.

It' after whispering a few things to the other nurses and leaning down to Mickey to press a small kiss to his cheek, that the sweet lady came back to Ian, sitting down by his side and taking one of his hands in hers. He would usually protest, but her hands seemed trustworthy. His eyes drifter to her name tag where he finally could read : _Mandy_.

''Ian, Mickey talks about you a lot you know?'' She smiled at him, trying her best to change the subject and center his attention away from the fragile boy.  

''He...He does?'' The redhead asked in confusion as tears started to fill his green spheres, realisation of his roommate being in danger finally kicking in.

''Yeah. I think you get him more than I do.'' She kept her eyes on him, sighing at how unpleasant the whole situation was. ''It's his third hospitalisation Ian.'' She frowned, nervously running a hand through her hair.

Ian looked at her deeply, observing every single one of her traits, eyebrows raised at everything she was telling him. She seemed so young, not quite older than he was. Both their eyes looked behind them as they heard the EMT's rush into the room with a stretcher, quickly gaining Mickey's side, giving them enough space to work.

As the two paramedics were stabilising his neck, pressing some gauze against his cut and lifting him onto the stretcher, Ian starred in disbelief, scared of what would happen to his roommate. Worry completely filled his heart, tears now rolling down his cheeks as they were about to carry Mickey away.

''Who will be coming with him?'' One of the paramedics asked, eyes shifting between the five people who were standing in the room.

''Me. I'm his sister.'' Mandy said calmly, looking back at Ian before following the paramedics. ''I'm sorry if he didn't tell you...But look...I promise to call to give you some news.'' She shoved her hands in her pockets, taking out her phone and handing it to him sympathetically, looking back at the other nurses. ''If there's a problem, put the blame on me, I'm giving him permission to use it.'' She exclaimed, feeling sad she couldn't take Ian with her, but knowing that was a rule they weren't allowed to break under any circumstances.

Ian gasped, squeezing the phone against him strongly and falling to the ground in exhaustion. As they took Mickey away, he broke down, crying into a ball in the middle of the cafeteria without holding back.

He didn't care what the employees were going to think about him, because _his_ roommate, _his_ friend and _his_ support system was being taken from him with a sister he didn't even know existed.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Triggers : mentions of self-harm, mentions of blood, mentions of panic attacks, anorexia nervosa. 
> 
> Don't forget to tell me what you think and what you would like to see in this story in the comments !


	9. Day 22

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry this chapter took so long to write, i've been so so so busy lately.   
> It is pretty long though, so I hope you guys will enjoy! 
> 
> See end notes for triggers :)

**Day 22**

 

''Ian...?''

Fiona whispered as she walked inside her brother's bedroom with a tall nurse and his psychiatrist standing by her side. She could feel her body fill with anxiety as she waited for his response, the sight of her baby sibling crawled up in a ball and hugging his knees in his bed, breaking her heart.

Ian turned around painfully, meeting Fi's eyes with tears still soaking his faded pink cheeks. He felt as if a knife had made its way through his chest, twisting and turning without pity only to make every single one of this breaths hard to take. He was stuck in a living nightmare and there was no way of getting out of it, no matter how hard he tried.

''Can...Can I?'' Fiona asked the nurse, wanting to run to his side and wrap him in a warm hug.

When the man finally gave her a nod of approval, she walked up slowly to his bed, not wanting to cause any more stress than he had already encountered. She nervously swallowed the lump forming in her throat before sitting by the edge of Ian's bed, fingers reaching for his trembling hands. The middle child had never been a huge fan of hugs or intense sighs of physical affection with his family, leaving Fiona shocked when he fell into her arms, nails carving into her shoulder blades as if his life depended on it.

He had always been the _''strong one''_. Never wanting to admit it when things weren't going his way or when he was feeling on the edge about to collapse. But the psych home had brought a complete other dimension into his life. Mickey had made his horizons grow. His roommate had made him open his eyes towards feelings of acceptance. He was _sick_ and he needed _help_.

_He was able to say it now._

''Shh...It's all going to be fine sweetie.'' Fiona whispered, pressing a soft kiss against the top of his head under the sympathising looks of both specialists standing by the doorway. Ian simply shook his head against her chest, feeling completely lost and hopeless.

He felt exactly like the poor six year old Ian, abandoned in the middle of the night with a disturbingly high fever, by carelessly drunk Monica and Frank.

''Ian...We spoke with your sister this morning and we have come to an agreement.'' The psychiatrist eventually spoke up, knowing that even though Ian wasn't looking at her, he was definitely listening anyway.

''They think you have shown a lot of improvement since your arrival...So they agreed to let us leave a few hours to head to the hospital together.'' His sister smiled at him as she shared the good news, running her hands softly through his long ginger hair. ''We can leave as soon as you're ready.''

Ian's emeralds turned towards her for the first time since she had put step in his bedroom. He starred at her intensely, making her understand without words, how grateful he was for all her efforts.

''I don't know who your roommate is...But if he is important enough to put you in this state...I had to do everything to help you out.''

The redhead simply nodded thankfully, rubbing his distressed spheres and hopelessly getting his body to raise a little higher in bed, knowing he would have to find the strength to get back on his feet. He cleared his throat, body gripping at Fiona's biceps for support. He looked at his psychiatrist, trying to get himself to say the proper words.

''Do...Do you have news from Mandy? She...She was supposed to call.'' He managed to ask, every effort looking painful to achieve. His fingers were still tightly wrapped around the phone that she had given him almost twenty four hours ago. Sadly, her call never came, which only amplified the stress overcoming Ian's body.

''I'm sorry Ian.'' The psychiatrist slowly shook her head, actually looking honest for once. She stared at the Rolex tied tightly to her wrist, feeling somehow concerned by the time it was. ''We should call a cab and get you going.''

Ian didn't find it in him to reply, simply pushing himself out of the mattress and up on his feet. Fiona could feel his frail body shake under her grip, only tightening her arm more steadily around him. Without taking the care to change, he limped to the doorway, exhaustion filling his face.

The nurse looked at Fiona with a smile, allowing her to leave the room with her brother. He pointed towards the front door, showing her where she would have to go to take the cab. The psychiatrist looked quite nervous, knowing such an agreement was defiantly against the rules established by the government's law book. But with Ian's bloodshot eyes, it was difficult to insist on keeping him away from Mickey. As cold as she had been since his arrival, she still had enough humanity to take decisions for the sake of her patients.

Ian and Fiona walked together to the front door of the psych home, leaving the redhead's heart rushing. He hadn't stepped outside since his internship 22 days ago. The idea of being able to breathe in fresh air and see the sun seemed surreal. Since the day he had met Mickey, he had secretly wished for them to both walk out of this place together. Sadly enough, things hadn't quite happened as he had dreamed of.

When they stepped outside, a small draft of wind blew softly against Ian's skin, ticking his pale cheek. He could feel his hair move in motion and the sound of the birds signing made his heart skip a beat. He only gripped onto his sister more firmly, not wanting to collapse to the ground and end his little trip earlier than it should. Fiona felt Ian's nails push into her forearm, pushing her hand between his shoulder blades to keep him steady.

''You're doing real good Ian.'' She whispered at him, sighing in relief as she saw the black taxi approach the concrete where they were both standing anxiously. She opened the door, motioning her brother to walk inside first. As he seemed well settled in, she climbed by his side, offering Ian her hand that he gratefully took.

''I just...hope he's alright.'' He exhaled deeply as he squeezed her hand a little tighter, feeling more lost than he had ever been before.

''I'm sure he is.'' She gave him a reassuring nod even though he was no longer starring at her, driving all his attention to the outside window.

The elderly taxi driver started the engine, giving Fiona a glance from his mirror before taking off.

Ian could feel his mind go insane as he watched them being pulled away from the psych home driveway. He had waited for his exit for so long, praying every day for his escape and his mental improvement. Ironically enough, now that he was finally given the chance to leave, being stuck in his little room with Mickey sounding a thousand times better.

 

* * *

 

 

When they arrived at the hospital, Ian had no idea how to handle the pressure. What he was feeling was indescribable, mind battling between wanting to see Mickey and avoiding him in fright of having to say goodbye.

Even with Fiona by his side, he couldn't feel reassured, pictures of his last visit to the ICU continuously playing in his mind.

 

* * *

 

**_27 days before_ **

_''Is he going to be alright?!'' Debbie shouted, feeling more afraid than she had ever felt before in her life. Her brother was being dragged away from his family on a stretcher, leaving her scared and lost._

_Lip, Fiona and Carl were close by, rushing down the halls as the nurses pushed Ian's limp body across the corridors. Kev and Veronica were close by, holding securely onto a crying Liam._

_Ian's eyes were open, starring weakly at the white ceiling as he was being carried. He's whole body was numb. He couldn't feel his arms, sight of blood covering the thin sheets leaving him pale and nauseous. He could hear his family shouting in the background, but was unable to unscramble what they were desperately trying to say._

_''We're going to lose him.'' Half shouted a nurse as they reached a room in the ICU, blocking the way to the members of Ian's family just before closing the door behind her._

_As he heard those words, Ian could feel his anxiety fly away, small smile brushing onto his purple lips._

_Maybe. Just maybe, this was the end of his suffering._

 

* * *

 

 

 

''Mickey Milkovich. Twenty three years old. Male. Patient from the Young Adult mental illness institution of Chicago. ''

Fiona looked back at Ian as the receptionist spoke, waiting for him to confirm the details before receiving the permission to head to his room.

He nodded, trying to hide the fact that he was about to pass out from the wave of nerves that were hitting him like a tsunami.

''And what would be your relationship towards the patient?'' The receptionist asked, waiting for his answer to hand out his room number.

''Relationship...?'' Ian swallowed the lump forming in his throat, having no fucking idea what to answer to that question, not really knowing what they were himself.

''Yes. Sibling? Cousin? Friend...?'' She precised, thinking he hadn't understood the question properly.

''Friend...I think.'' He sighed, pinching his arm nervously as he waited for her to finally allow him to see Mickey. ¸

She raised an eyebrow in confusion, trying to ignore the fact that the kid didn't actually seem to understand what their relationship was.

''Room 104. Just go through this corridor, forth door on your right.'' She guided him with her finger, starring back curiously as Ian walked away with Fiona holding him steady.

The emotions running through his veins were mixed. He really wanted to be with Mickey, but he was also quite scared of what he would find out about his past life. So many questions were rushing in his mind, such as why Mandy had never called him as she had promised the previous day. Technically, she owned him nothing, it was true, but he wished he had been worth at least a minute of her time.

When they finally arrived in front of the wanted door, Fiona spinned him around so he would be facing her. She swallowed as her brother stared right into her eyes, running her long fingers through his hair and pushing a ginger strain out of his view.

''I'll be waiting for you outside...Aright?'' She insisted, wanting to give her brother the level of intimacy he deserved. ''If you need anything, you come meet me right away.''

''I promise.'' Ian squeezed her hand slightly before letting it go, nervously biting onto his nails as he watched her walk away from his sight.

He stared at the door for a while before actually allowing himself inside. Truth was, he was fucking terrified of what he was about to see. It's only by pursuing himself with crazy amounts of bravery that he finally opened the door, taking a step forward with his emeralds facing the floor. He could feel more than one presence in the room, only making his nerves climb even more drastically.

When he found the courage to face the bed Mickey was laying in, he held himself onto the wall for support, pretty convinced he was about to fall over. He completely ignored Mandy and the other tall mean looking guy sitting by his roommates side, focusing only on how incredibly sick his _friend_ looked. It made Ian's stomach churn when he noticed how tightly Mickey's eyes were sealed shut, how his knuckles were white. His skin was of a greenish looking color and his cheekbones were deep and bony. His jaw line was more defined than he could remember and he couldn't keep his spheres away from one of his sharp collarbones peeking through his hospital gown. Mickey was so fucking thin, he already looked like a dead corpse which scared Ian to a point he couldn't describe. He could barely see his dark hair through the thick bloody bandages that covered his scalp, still wondering how bad his cut was. The most terrifying part were the IV needles pushed deeply into his forearm veins and the strange looking tubing tied to one of his hands. A bag was hanging on a metal pole by his side, filled with a strange liquid he had never seen before. None of that bullshit seemed reassuring.

Ian was trying his best to stabilise his breathing, wanting to avoid any type of panic attack. For once, he needed to get his shit together and quit acting like a complete psychotic freak. To him, that's the only thing he had done recently. This time, it had to change. He needed to be there for his friend or whatever else he fucking was.

All he knew, was that he was really important to him and  that was the only thing that mattered.

''Ian, we were expecting you.'' Mandy smiled, getting up from her chair and slowly walking up to the redhead's side. She slowly applied a hand to his shoulder only to give it a steady squeeze.

''You...You were?'' He raised an eyebrow in confusion, not thinking his psychiatrist would have called his family before giving him permission to visit.

''It was the right thing to do you know? Let you see him I mean. He kept talking about you.'' She continued with her smile never fading. She seemed to be the complete opposite of her brother. She had this cheerful and colourful vibe Ian wasn't quite used to.

''He did?'' Ian asked again, quite confused by everything Mandy was admitting. He could totally get used to Mickey talking about him.

''Yeah. Kept repeating he wanted to call you. But he couldn't, we needed to get him in the operation room.'' She admitted, grin quickly replacing itself with a frown. ''They had to check a few things...Fix his head and shit.''

Ian nodded sadly, eyes shifting continuously between her and Mickey, honestly really wanting to sit by his side and hold his hand, even though he wasn't too sure of how the people in the room would deal with such a sigh of affection.

''But...He's alright?'' Ian asked anxiously, praying mentally for a positive reply.

''If you call being fucking stupid alright, then yeah, he's okay.'' The man in the room finally spoke with a dry tone and his arms locked around his chest. He didn't look like he had time for any type bullshit.

''That's our brother Iggy. Ignore him please.'' Mandy rolled her eyes, trying to make Ian comfortable in the current awkwardness.

_Iggy._

That sounded quite familiar in the back of Ian's mind, but he just couldn't put his finger on exactly where he had heard that name before. The man was much taller than Mickey and had a natural quite intimidating facial expression of anger.

''He's going to be fine.'' Mandy finally admitted, running a hand through her long blond hair to push her bangs out of her eyes. It was the very first time Ian had seen her with her hair loose, realising just how long it actually was. ''They are feeding him now...Which was quite needed, probably for a while. He won't be happy when he's going to wake up, but it's definitely for the best.'' She sighed painfully, being used to that daily struggle with her older sibling.

''But...But why?'' Ian frowned, nails finding their way back to his mouth, now nibbling against his fingertips since he had bit away the most important part of his nails.

''Oh that dear, is a question we've been asking ourselves since the day we found out.'' She looked at Ian sadly, not knowing what to add more to her confession.

''He just fucking wants our attention.'' Iggy rolled his eyes, being annoyed by his brothers bullshit.

''What the hell Iggy. You know it's not that simple.'' She pushed his shoulder roughly, hating his attitude towards their obviously really ill brother. ''You're supposed to keep him safe you prick.''

''How the fuck am I supposed to keep him safe when he doesn't want to be helped?!''

''Enough!'' Mandy almost shouted, fist getting tighter against her sides as she pointed the exit to her brother. ''Now get the fuck out before I call security on your ass.''

The redhead had never seen Mandy with such furry in her eyes. He could feel her level of anger grow through her brother's every word. Even through his observations, he stayed completely silent, not knowing how to react and especially not wanting to mess up. Iggy seemed more annoyed by her attitude than mad, leaving the room without turning back. It looked obvious that he didn't give a fuck.

_Or maybe...Was he scared of caring?_

Ian wasn't too sure about that one.

''Would you like a moment alone with him?'' Mandy asked, making sure Iggy was out of their sight.

Ian's spheres grew wide, not expecting such kindness from the nurse, especially since she hadn't even cared to call him the previous night as she had promised. He nodded shyly, but a wave of happiness obviously softened his facial expression, already feeling a little more comfortable. Ever since he had gotten at the hospital, he had felt like an intruder, glad Mandy was allowing him to feel like he belonged.

''Alright then.'' She gave his shoulder a slight squeeze before walking towards the door. Seconds before leaving, she turned her back around, wanting to tell him one last thing. ''For the first time in his life...I think Mickey really cares about someone other than his family. Please don't mess this up for him.'' As she finished her warning, she stepped out of the room, leaving Ian completely alone with his roommates lifeless body.

He swallowed the lump forming in his throat, pressure weighting against his body, realising just how much of a big deal being emotionally involved with Mickey would mean. He for sure, cared a lot about him...But he had never been positive until this moment, that the feeling was mutual from the older boy.

He approached his bed side slowly, pulling one of the chairs in the room closer to the bed. He wanted to feel close to him, like they used to be at the psych home. Strangely enough, he missed being locked away from the real world with Mickey. It somehow all felt right. Perhaps, the mental house wasn't that bad.

He sat down on the cushiony surface, gently taking one of Mickey's thin hands in his. Ian could feel his heart beat faster and faster, analysing every single detail of Mickey's body. His tiny fingers felt lost in his big hand. He couldn't ignore the fact that his nails were of a bright purple and cold as hell. He wished he could climb into his bed and wrap his arms around his body. He dreamed of sharing his warmth and kissing his lips.

The feelings he had for Mickey were hard to explain. Even though they had known each other only for a couple of days, their knowledge of one and other seemed to have been growing their entire lives. Being with Mickey seemed _right_. It had always been and Ian's inner voice was screaming that it _always would be_.

As he tried to hush that small voice screaming in the back of his mind, he noticed Mickey's eyes start to flutter slowly. He was gently squirming from left to right, rocking his frail body awake. Ian simply watched, unable to keep his heart from almost exploding. When the older boys eyes were finally completely open, Ian squeezed his hand a little tighter, wanting him to know that he wasn't alone.

''I..Ian...?'' He asked confused, looking around in every corner, as if he was searching for something he couldn't find.

''Your brother and sister left the room...Gave me a few minutes to be alone with you.'' Ian cached up quickly, stroking his palm gently with the back of his thumb.

He noticed Mickey's tensed body automatically relax.

''How...How are you here?'' Mickey voice sounded weak and dry.

''Long story...I just had to see you.'' He admitted with a small smile, knowing all these questions weren't important, but still enjoying the fact that Mickey was so curious. ''Now...Please stop with your questions. Do you need anything?''

''Wa...Water...My...My mouth is...?''

''Dry. Of course.'' Ian finished his sentenced, quickly getting up on his feet and storming off into the bathroom that was only a few steps away from Mickey's bed. He grabbed a little plastic cup, filling it with cold liquid from the tab. He came back only seconds later, handing him the small glass.

Mickey tried taking it into his hand, but he was shaking uncontrollably, unable to bring the cup to his lips without dropping it.

''Let me...'' Ian took the water back in his palm, gently approaching it to. Mickey's lips, tipping it slightly foreword so the weak boy could wet his lips and get a few tiny sips

As Mickey had enough, he closed his eyes softly, turning his face so he would be facing the wall.

''What's wrong?'' Ian frowned, pressing his hand against his roommates side and rubbing soft little circles onto his back. Only seconds after he pronounced his questions, he could feel regret, seeing Mickey's shoulder gently bounce up and down. The redhead in a moment of panic, climbed into the older boys bed, wrapping his strong arms around his fragile bones and scooting his closer to his chest. He knew very well that he probably wasn't allowed to be in this position, but in that very moment, he couldn't care less. Mickey's well being was all he could ever care about. Without insisting for an answer to his question, he simply hushed Mickey, own eyes getting watery as he heard fade whimpers come out of the poor boy's mouth.

''They are...going to make me better. Fuck!'' Mickey spoke with a raspy voice, starring at the needle stuck in his hand and the liquid lingering above his bed. He had been in this position before, knowing how badly hospitalization sucked. Sure, recovery could sound good in the perspective of others, but for him, it was simply fucking scary.

Ian raised an eyebrow, keeping him close to his warm torso, but not quite understanding why Mickey was acting so dramatically about being taken care of.

''Is that not what you want...?''

Mickey shook his head in horror at Ian's interrogation, finally locking back at the stack of ginger hair in front of him with his wide ocean eyes. His cheeks were stained with tears, having absolutely no control on his emotions lately. He cleared his throat before giving him a heart filled answer.

''Do I want to walk to a scale in front of a nurse and a doctor with nothing with my boxers, to be told that I have reached my goal weight? Do I want them to look at me with proud eyes, starring a my fat thighs and chubby stomach with awe? Do I want my family to cheer at the fact that I finally stopped acting like a teenage girl with self esteem issues?'' He spoke slowly, but also in some sort of self defence sounding mode.

''I...Don't get where this is going Mickey.'' Ian starred at him closely, pushing a small strand of his dark hair away from his eyes and behind his ear.

''Being better...Means losing all my progress.''

''What progress?!'' Ian asked a little more roughly, struggling to believe what he was hearing.

''My weight loss. If I reach my goal weight...If I recover...I'll have to start all over again to be beautiful. Ian...I worked so hard to be fucking beautiful.''

There was a tremor behind Mickey's every word. It drove Ian insane to think that his roommate didn't realise how thin he was and how dangerous it was all becoming for his immune system.

''Mickey...'' Ian spoke softly, not wanting to be to brutal and cause more harm than well. ''You remember that day when you told me I was sick and you shoved my wrists in my face so I would see my scars?'' He nervously swallowed, never letting go at the tiny boy's body, rocking him back and forth like a fragile porcelain doll. ''Well...I have to do the same to you today. You...You're literally skin on bones Mick and...If you keep doing this to yourself well...'' He closed his eyes, trying to hold back the tears that were forming in the corner of his spheres. ''You're...Going to fucking die.''

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Tiggers - Hospitals, Needles, Tubing Nutrition, Anorexia Nervosa, Mentions of Self Harm and Mentions of death.

**Author's Note:**

> Chapters will be updated weekly or sooner. 
> 
> Please leave comments on what events you would like to see happening next. 
> 
> I also take Gallagher and Milkovich prompts, so be free to leave them in the comments. 
> 
> Much love,  
> Sabrina xx


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